


pavlove

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: AU, Barebacking, Bottom!Cisco, Fingering, M/M, PWP, Possessiveness, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex, and kind of doing it for the wrong reasons, conflicting emotions, meant to be a little dark, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 10:38:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6800389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is injured for whatever reason, and confined to the old Wells' wheelchair--</p>
<p>And the sight of <i>Harrison Wells</i>, any Wells, in a wheelchair is just too good for Cisco to resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pavlove

**Author's Note:**

> random pwp bunny that popped into my head. not beta'd, enjoy!

Cisco whines when he sees it—sees _him_.

Cisco’s knees are shaking so bad he can barely stand, and the heat rushing to his cock is dizzying. It makes him feel like a teenager again, fumbling and bumbling in his attempts to get off. The sight before him makes his mind go blank, makes his heart skip a beat or ten, makes him start walking across the room. He keens again as he stands beside Harry—seated in the wheelchair for a reason Cisco doesn’t really care about—then bites his own lip to keep from moaning again.

“Cisco…” Harry’s voice is low and warning. He stares at Cisco with tired eyes, red around the edges, a lingering trace of confusion in his expression. “What do you want, Ramon?”

Cisco can’t help it; his knees are buckling and his body is screaming— _want, want, want_. It’s a visceral reaction, a near pavlovian response, seeing any version of Harrison Wells cooped up in a wheelchair. It brings back so many memories, good and bad, mostly moments stolen in long nights alone in the cortex. In the back of his mind, Cisco cringes at the thought of Eobard playing him like a fiddle; he hates knowing that Eobard Thawne knows what gets him off, but he can’t hate the image before him. Harry looks softer, vulnerable, and even though he’s injured Cisco just can’t resist.

Cisco steps away from Harry just long enough to root around in the nearby desk, knowing something they can use has to be in there.

“Ramon, _what_ do you _want_?” Harry asks again, voice stronger and more irritated.

Cisco breathes deep but doesn’t answer. He keeps digging through the drawers until a familiar half-empty tube of slick catches his eye.

He hadn’t come to Harry’s office with the intent of riding him in that stupid chair, but now Cisco can think of little else. He’d had a question for Harry, needed some help on this or that, but when he’d seen Harry in the chair—any other thoughts derailed.

He hurriedly moves back to Harry and stands in front of him. Eyes trained on Harry’s curious face, Cisco steps out of his shoes, peels off his socks, then starts to unbutton his pants. He listens just carefully enough to catch Harry’s breathing speed up, breathy and nearly a pant. Their eyes are locked on one another, and Harry isn’t stopping him, so Cisco keeps going.

Harry reaches out when Cisco’s pants are unbuttoned and unzipped and stops Cisco from pulling them down. “Cisco,” he’s quiet, this time. “What are you doing?”

Cisco keens unhappily, barely keeps from stomping his foot like a child. “C’mon, Harry,” he eventually pleads, “please.”

Harry shivers and his hands let go of the waistband of Cisco’s pants to instead move greedily across the skin of Cisco’s stomach. His fingertips tease the soft dustings of hair and the slight give of his skin, the excess fat a soft padding under Harry’s touch. Harry shudders again and lets out a long, drawn out breath.

“Please,” Cisco cants his hips forward and his pants start to slide down.

Harry growls and shoves them down, pushing at them until Cisco has to step back to get them completely off. Harry pointedly stares at Cisco’s boxers next, until Cisco takes the hint and divests of those, too.

“Help me, Cisco,” Harry murmurs, wincing as he moves his hips to pull down his own pants. Cisco complies in an instant, pulling eagerly at the S.T.A.R. Labs sweats and plain white briefs underneath, working around the bandages on Harry’s knees, until they’re pooled at Harry’s ankles. His cock is half-hard, contrasting Cisco’s completely stiff cock. Harry reaches out again and locks his hands on Cisco’s hips to pull him closer.

“Harry,” Cisco breathes; he lets Harry guide him onto the chair. It takes a few torturously long moments of maneuvering around the bulkiness of the chair, but eventually Cisco settles in Harry’s lap. “Please,” Cisco begs again as he presses his forehead to Harry’s.

“What do you need, Cisco,” Harry hisses, though he’s plucking the lube from Cisco’s hand and popping it open. “Do you want my fingers inside of you? Want me to spread you open and get you ready for my cock?”

Cisco’s arms loop around Harry’s neck as he nods frantically, desperately. “Please, yes, fuck,” Cisco’s hips are already rolling and his cock smears precome on Harry’s black shirt. “Now, Harry, c’mon.” Cisco arches his back as Harry’s fingertips skirt the curve of his ass. Cisco can almost feel the heat of embarrassment he knows should be burning in his chest; he’s practically mewling, after all, so needy it should be shameful. He decides he doesn’t really care, not when Harry’s wet fingers slide inside him easily.

The length of two of Harry’s fingers glide into Cisco with only a hint of a burn. It’s a bit too much to start with, and it’s been a while since Cisco has been on the receiving end—since Eobard Thawne was erased from existence, actually—so the stretch is a little overwhelming. It’s good, though, perfect, and Cisco rolls his hips against the touch to draw Harry’s fingers in deeper. Harry’s fingers curl expertly and Cisco gasps.

“Cisco,” Harry mouths at the sweat-tangy skin of Cisco’s neck as he speaks. “Look at you, needing me so badly,” Harry bites down and sucks, leaving a deep red mark in his wake. He pulls back far enough to admire it before returning to lap over it apologetically. “Are you mine, Cisco?”

Cisco nods when words catch impossibly in his throat. He nods so hard he feels dizzy again. He knows, distantly, that he should examine why exactly is Harry onboard with this so easily, why it hardly took any effort to get what Cisco wanted, but he saves the thought of later. All he wants now is Harry’s cock inside him, feelings and confessions and everything else can come later.

Cisco reaches back and grabs Harry’s wrist. “M’ready, please, do it.” It’s not the most comfortable position, it’s awkward and takes even more adjusting to get Harry’s cock lined up with Cisco’s slick hole, but it’s worth it. Cisco shivers at the stretch and clenches down as he sinks down on Harry’s now stiff cock. “Oh-oh fuck,” Cisco gasps, his grip on Harry’s shoulders tightening.

Harry guides him by his hips again until he’s full seated, then they both still. “Cisco,” Harry’s eyes are trained on Cisco’s groin, barely able to see where their bodies are so intimately connected. He looks pained, as though being unable to pound into Cisco is torture in itself, and Cisco can admit the flush to his cheeks is a nice change from his usual haughty behavior. “Look at you,” Harry says again, “you take my cock so well, like you were made for me.”

Cisco moans in response and starts to roll his hips. He rises up and sinks back down in a slow, thick rhythm, even when his thighs start to burn. It’s worth it, Cisco thinks, for the look Harry is giving him: one that’s verging on reverent and just as desperate as Cisco’s own. Cisco presses his cheek to Harry’s when the look threatens to overwhelm him, instead settling for just being close and breathing in one another.

Cisco clenches around Harry just to draw another moan from him, one that’s louder than the rest of the Harry’s pitchy gasps.

“Harry,” Cisco combs his fingers through Harry’s hair before gripping and tugging. “ _Harry_ ,” Cisco says again when the head of Harry’s cock hits _that_ spot inside him. Cisco arches his body just right so it keeps happening, every time he takes Harry’s cock again, that bundle of nerves in his ass is brushed. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , Harry, I’m gonna come.”

Harry’s long fingertips curl around Cisco’s flushed cock. “So soon, Cisco?” Harry asks though his own voice is strained; it’s meant to be a taunt but Cisco can feel the way Harry’s own prick is twitching, how Harry just as close to the edge.

“Come inside me,” Cisco snaps as he moves his hips faster. He rides Harry wantonly, toes curling and whole body burning with a blush. The muscle memory is still there, but Cisco pushes any thoughts of the old, _fake_ Harrison Wells from his mind. He focuses all his attention on _this_ Wells, on _Harry_ , instead. “Come inside me, please, Harry.”

Harry’s next words, whatever they might’ve been, catch in his throat with a choking sound. He groans, stuttering and uneven as he presses his hips up and pushes as deep as he can into Cisco. His cock pulses as he comes, spilling inside Cisco and marking him, filling him up. Harry’s head lolls back as he shouts—

“ _Cisco!_ ”

Cisco takes over jerking his own cock when Harry’s hand goes slack. He keeps his grip tight and fast and gives in to the sensation of Harry’s come inside him, the heat of his cock, all of his moans and groans. Cisco shudders as he comes over his fingers, spilling onto Harry’s shirt, muttering Harry’s name under his breath.

They come down from the highs of their orgasms and shiver simultaneously as sweat cools on their skin. Cisco is the first to look up, the first to really come out of the daze. He waits until Harry meets his eyes, then leans in. Harry doesn’t stop him, just like before, Harry settles and his hands flex possessively on Cisco’s thighs. If anything, Harry tilts his head just a little so that when their lips come together it’s a soft, perfectly fitting kiss, no bumping noses and no awkward clacking of teeth.

Cisco moans into the kiss as his hands cup Harry’s jaw. They kiss, lips moving together and tongues teasing one another until they have to pull apart for air. They don’t go far, though, lips still close enough to touch.

“I don’t know about you, Ramon,” Harry breaks the silence, “but I’m not much into the idea of sharing.”

Cisco hums in agreement. “Is that you’re way of saying you want to go on a date?”

Harry growls again and one hand slides to cup Cisco’s ass. “Not quite,” he hisses. He squeezes, nails biting into the soft flesh of Cisco’s ass as he speaks. “That’s my way of saying this,” another squeeze, “and this,” he kisses Cisco quick and sharp, “are _mine_.”

Cisco blinks back owlishly and though there’s almost too much familiarity in the motions, Cisco can’t deny the heat that starts to ignite in his gut again. He nods, this time. “Okay. Yours.”

Harry breaks out into a smug grin and kisses Cisco again, still possessive and hungry but not as fierce or biting. “It also means,” he murmurs into Cisco’s mouth, “that I’m yours.”

Cisco keens not all that differently than he had when he walked into Harry’s office and saw him in the wheelchair. He sighs and can’t help but grin. He presses back into Harry’s grip and nods again. He doesn’t say so, because it would take too long to explain, and he suspects Harry has a good idea already but—this, this _mutual_ ownership is something Harrison Wells-slash-Eobard Thawne had ever given Cisco. It sets the memories apart; it pushes the sickening reminder of betrayal to the back of Cisco’s mind so he can more easily distinguish between his old lover and his new.

Cisco’s smile is sharp but still a bit dazed. “Mine,” he agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> i both kind of feel like they're doing this for the wrong reasons, but cisco especially. he's been attracted to harry, but a lot of his attraction comes from his relationship with eowells. in my mind, if this verse were to continue, they'd eventually come to care for each other a little more normally, but for now... ehhh it's kind of unhealthy.


End file.
